


The Hunt for Waddles

by MercuryHomophony



Series: To Date A Cervitaur [8]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Monster Falls, Cute, Gen, dipper is a good brother, the twins are 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6951148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryHomophony/pseuds/MercuryHomophony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Fluventis changes the town into monster-people, there's a lot to be done to adjust. But Mabel just wants her pig back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunt for Waddles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amethyst_Lady_Going_Crazy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyst_Lady_Going_Crazy/gifts).



Dipper Pines was on a mission of grave importance, entrusted to him by his best friend and sister. He was armed with his notebook and journal, as well as an array of useful tools that might aid him against the various and sundry dangers that lurked in the woods of Gravity Falls. He straightened his trucker had, eyes narrowed in determination as he stared at the treeline beyond the shack, before puffing up his chest and marching into the forest with as much resolve a young cervitaur of thirteen could muster.

He had a pig to find.

 

—

 

It hadn’t taken Mabel a day to realize her beloved pet pig was missing. Unfortunately, actually looking for him was put off for a few days… then for a few _weeks_ , while they tried to find a way to fix their predicament.

“He could be in trouble, or _lonely_!” Mabel bemoaned to Dipper one evening. “He’s just a little pig, and- and what if he gets lost?” She gasped. “What if those _dinosaurs find him again?!_ ”

“I’m pretty sure that won’t happen, Mabel. Grunkle Stan punched them pretty good last time - I doubt they’ll be out looking for pig anytime soon.”

“But, what if-?”

“Mabel.” Dipper put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got Multibear and the Manotaurs keeping an eye out for him, and anyway - Waddles is a smart pig! I’m sure he’ll come back home soon.”

Mabel sighed, leaning on the edge of her tank. “I hope so, Dipper. I miss him…” She looked down at her webbed fingers and frowned, flexing them. “Not like I could exactly cuddle with him like this, though…”

“You could still go swimming with him! I bet he would love a good swim with you in the lake,” Dipper tried.

“…yeah, I suppose…” Mabel muttered, sinking into the water. Dipper had to pull his hand back so he didn’t fall in, and settled on the ground next to the tank, patting the glass sympathetically and making a decision.

Tomorrow, he’d go hunting for Waddles.

 

—

 

“Now, if I was a pig, and a flood came through… where would _I_ hide?” Dipper mumbled to no one in particular, wandering the woods. Waddles was a house-pig, not an outdoors pig, which made this all the more difficult. Dipper wasn’t sure where to start his search, and had decided to simply follow the path the flood had made away from the Shack. According to Grunkle Stan, that’s where they’d been when it hit, so if Waddles had gotten washed downstream, it would make sense Dipper would find him in that area, right?

A loud cawing drew him from his thoughts, and he jumped, looking up at the source of the sound. An enormous crow was hunched on a branch above him, cocking its head and staring down at him with one beady eye. Flexing its wings, it gave another harsh cry as it took off, circling once before heading deeper into the forest. Dipper followed it’s flight with his eyes, gulping as it vanished into the shadows of the forest.

He was starting to get into the deeper part of the woods, where Ford had warned him not to go alone… but the grooves in the dirt worn by the flood, still visible after two weeks, led this way, and the mental image of Mabel’s dejected face solidified his resolve… a little. More cautiously, he proceeded, trying to keep his steps quiet as he went.

“Wow, it’s gloomy in here…” The light dimmed as the trees filtered out more and more of it, giving the whole place a shadowy, foreboding appearance. The silver lining, he thought to himself, is that something as pink as Waddles would be pretty easy to spot here.

The downside is, this was starting to look like the kind of place where being spotted easily was a _bad_ thing. Dipper hoped that Waddles was okay.

 

—

 

He hadn’t made much progress. Not in finding Waddles, anyways. He’d checked for tracks as he went along (he’d had to pull out his flashlight in some spots, to check under logs and bushes, where a scared pig might hide), but all he saw were the usual, squirrel and fox and deer… and maybe Bigfoot? Dipper paused, tilting his head as he examined that one. He was fairly certain that was an actual _print_ , and not just a random assortment of dents in the earth that just happened to _look_ like a print. In which case, it was shaped like a human print, but the size of that…

A sound caught his ear, and it flicked in its direction, perking up a little. It sounded like a snapping twig, but that wasn’t uncommon in this neck of the woods - probably a small animal, he thought, starting to bend down to inspect the print - before remembering what he came here for.

Dipper stood back up, a little sheepishly, and twisted his ears around, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. He was pretty sure it had come from deeper into the woods… and another crack supported that theory. Dipper frowned, ears lifted as high as he could. That second one had sounded… different. Louder, more resounding.

A third crack, even closer, told him exactly why.

“Those aren’t twigs, those are _branches_ ,” he realized suddenly, and the implications hit him just as quickly. If it were big enough to snap branches in half like twigs, then it was more than big enough to threaten the same to a teenage cervitaur.

And it was getting closer.

Hoping he hadn’t been noticed yet, he turned, carefully picking his way back along the path he’d taken to get there. His tracks were pretty clear in the mud and dirt, and he started to fret. What if this thing was smart enough to track him, and found his trail?

He picked up the pace a little, trying to find a balance between being swift, and careful.

A branch broke behind him, and he suddenly heard a monstrously loud snuffle, too nearby. He glanced over his shoulder, shining his flashlight back.

The beam shone through the trees, catching across an enormous lumbering shape, one that would give even Multibear a run for his money, and as the light fell on it, it turned.

Two beady black eyes, the size of car headlights, fell on him, and Dipper felt his heart stop for a split second.

Then the deer part of his mind caught him, and he turned and bolted.

He caught the sound of another snuffle, then a screech, and it was after him. He could hear its feet pounding along the ground, and whatever it was, it was _fast._

But not as fast as he was.

Dipper darted to and fro between the trees, trying to keep to more enclosed copses, hoping that would slow the creature down behind him.

He stopped doing that when it uprooted a very sturdy looking pine with one toss of its head, displaying a terrifying set of tusks. The tree crashed to one side behind him, and Dipper picked up the pace. He couldn’t risk it toppling more trees, for fear of getting stuck under one, or worse, but he was starting to get worn down, and he needed to find something that would slow this thing down, and soon.

Ahead, he caught sight of brighter forest, and a couple of fallen trees, leaning low against each other, caught his eye. A plan occurred to him - something he’d seen in a Disney movie, which wasn’t exactly credible, but was better than nothing, and he headed towards them. He hardly had to duck to get under, and slowed his pace somewhat, turning to see if his plan would work…

The creature was barreling after him, apparently blind to everything in it’s way - nearly fifteen feet tall, mouth wide and frothing with saliva, tusks gouging at the air, and it tried to follow him, diving under the trees.

It was about halfway through when it got stuck, wedged in the opening made by the trees. Its legs dug into the ground, hooves gouging the earth, and Dipper gulped nervously at the damage they did, dregging up bushes and tree roots alike… but for now, the trees were holding, so it was time to make good on his getaway.

He turned, preparing to run, and the creature let out another cry that sounded almost like…

…a squeal?

Dipper hesitated, turning back to the creature again, and taking a better look. It was massive, stocky like a barrel, with hooves and tusks and a pair of furry ears that looked a lot like his…

And a flat, pink snout. And that familiar, helpless, clueless look.

“ _Waddles?_ ” Dipper asked incredulously, eyebrows pulled together in shock. The mammoth pig squealed again, legs flailing. “Is- is that you- whoa.” With a rumble, the swine pulled himself free, practically shaking off the fallen tree like a minor inconvenience as he popped through the hole and started advancing on Dipper once again. “Waddles, hold on - it’s me, Dipper!” He held up his hands placating, then realized that he was trying to reason with a pig. “Waddles, just- hey, no-no-no-no-n-!”

Waddles knocked him over with a playful tackle, and Dipper found himself on the receiving end of wet, sloppy pig kisses in an instant, albeit larger ones than he’d ever had before, and even as he tried to push the enormous pig off of him, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Waddles, no, down!” Waddles backed off a little, blinking cheerfully down at him, and he sat up, brushing pig slobber off of himself with a grimace that still couldn’t outweigh his smile as he looked up at the dire boar.

“Let’s get you home. There’s someone that misses you.”

 

—

 

“Hey, Mabel!”

Mabel looked up from her attempted knitting. It was tough going, picking up her old hobby with fins and gills, but she was doing her best. If she hadn’t been so good at it already, she was sure it would have been impossible, but with her expertise, adjusting to wet wool had been possible.

Didn’t mean it was easy, though, and it didn’t keep her distracted enough from missing Waddles, so when her brother called to her from the front yard, she was more than happy to drop the soggy pile of yarn into the bucket Stan had given her and roll herself outside.

“What is it?” she called back, trying to keep the strain out of her voice as she pulled herself (and her tank) along. She’d made it to the gift shop when she finally saw Dipper, and she wrinkled her nose. “Oh man, Dipper, what happened? Why are you covered in…” she gestured to him, “gunk?”

Dipper didn’t seem particularly perturbed by his appearance - if anything, her comment just made him grin wider, which confused her. “I’ll explain later. But right now, there’s someone out front who _really_ wants to see you.”

“Okay?” Mabel wasn’t sure who that could have been - if it were one of her friends, they would have just come in, they knew they were always welcome at the Shack - and she didn’t know of anyone else whose presence would require waiting out front. But she did love surprises. “Help me get my tank out front?”

“Sure!” Dipper obligingly trotted over to her side, leaning his shoulder against the tank and pushing. “Oh, but close your eyes! It’s a surprise!”

Mabel huffed a little, a small grin starting on her face, and she closed her eyes. She felt the tank roll out onto the porch, then down the little ramp onto the grass. There was a weird, warm breeze, that kept starting and stopping, coming from the woods…

“Okay, now you can open your eyes!”

Mabel did. Lying in front of her, pressed down as close to the ground as he could get, was-

“WADDLES!” she shrieked, arms flying up as she realized who it was. Mammoth sized pig or not, she knew that face _anywhere_. “You’re okay!”

The fifteen-foot tall pig whuffed at her, wiggling forward until his nose tapped the tank, and Mabel leaned over, wrapping her arms around his snout, grinning wildly.

And Dipper looked at his sister, and her pig, and smiled.

Even when the world was turned on its head, somethings never changed.

**Author's Note:**

> Ford spent the next two weeks trying to figure out why Waddles was the only animal affected, and they eventually decided it must be something to do with the week he spent as a super-genius earlier that summer, and called it a day.  
> (Also, Waddles has to sleep out in the woods, but he's so big no one messes with him anyways. And he's just a giant sweetheart.)


End file.
